


Of Many A Smutch’d Deed Reminiscent

by ElectraRhodes



Series: Fannibal Fest Ficlets 2017 [9]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Falling In Love, Hannibal helps Will Graham, M/M, Missing Scenes, Murder Family, Season 1, Surprising isn’t it?, Will Finds Out, Will helps Hannibal Lecter, gradual and very slow canon divergence, obssessed cannibal noises, proposal, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/pseuds/ElectraRhodes
Summary: Season One - and Hannibal? Hannibal opts for the other means of influence. Even if he is still a sensitive intelligent serial killing cannibal. And Will? Isn’t as bothered as he might have thought. There’s more than one way to catch and eat a fish after all.





	1. Aperitif

**Author's Note:**

  * For [popsicle_stick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/popsicle_stick/gifts).



> Based on a tweet between Mxpopsiclestix and Lotus at Fannibal Fest Toronto. I’ve twisted it a little.

Hannibal sits at his dining room table and thinks a moment. He sets his knife and fork parallel to each other on the plate. Considers further. It had been a propitious start. The profiler had practically run from the room snarling. And the message from Agent Crawford had made him smile, ‘field kabuki’, oh such a beautiful mind. ‘Pure empathy’ is how he’d described Will back to Jack, but it’s more than that. 

When he takes the plate through to the kitchen he thinks about the FBI teacher some more. Of course his mind is like electricity, jumps and starts and illumination, but Hannibal is sufficiently well versed in his own predilections to know the casing is desirable too. And interesting that Alana Bloom has never mentioned her friend to him. She must know he’d be intrigued and attracted. In lots of ways.

Perhaps that’s her concern. Perhaps she wants to keep Will Graham for herself? In one way or another? Still, for whatever reason she’s pointed Jack Crawford in his direction. Oh. Of course. To maintain the boundaries. Wouldn’t do to cross that line Alana would it? He smirks a little.

In his bedroom he packs some different clothes for the late flight back out to Minnesota. Such a shame he can’t use frequent flyer miles. 

..................................

Will Graham looks both rumpled and disgruntled when he opens the door of his motel room and honestly Hannibal is delighted by the sight. So grumpy and impolite and clearly underslept. Of course there are multiple ways Hannibal could help with that as well. First things first though.

And straight away Will is tucking in gratefully. And there are few things that Hannibal welcomes more than someone who visibly and noisily benefits from what he can provide. On the table, in the consulting room, in his home, in his bed. He smiles genially and eats his own plateful.

He can’t help but smile too at Will’s brittle push backs to every conversational parry.

“God forbid we become friendly.”

Will barely pauses when he replies,

“I don’t find you that interesting.”

And just like that the ante is upped, the game is on, and Hannibal? Hannibal falls a little in love. Oh very well, for the sake of the thing, a little further.

“You will.”

The banter continues and on into the car and Will warms up to him, just a little, the smallest amount.

“What are you smiling about?”

.........................................

In the Hobbs’ kitchen he holds the girl’s neck. Holding her life in. Will looks beyond shocked, blood sprayed across his face and neck. In the corner the father, the Shrike, slumps dead, perforated by bullets. It had taken maybe ten shots to drop him. It had taken Will ten shots to drop him. Ten.

And Hannibal? Hannibal is filled with a kind of yearning. 

He helps when the EMT arrives, follows the girl to the hospital. Follows the scent of blood and life slipping. He tries not to watch Will watching them as he gets into the ambulance with her.   
Later when he wakes up from being slumped uncomfortably in a chair at Abigail Hobbs’ bedside he sees Will on the other side of the bed, slumped in his own chair. An even less comfortable one.

They exchange tired smiles. Just for a brief moment Will offers him the intimacy of his eyes.

And for Hannibal? His focus sharpens. His plans shift, just a little. For the Mongoose, the Fragile Little Teacup. For Will.

Everything. For Will.


	2. Amuse Bouche

Will walks around the gallery of his office and Hannibal signs off on his mental health well being form just like that. Or at least as far as Will is concerned it’s just like that.

For Hannibal though. It’s part of his new campaign to win this vibrant man through conversations, support, and ways out of dark places when Agent Crawford drags him there. And the conversation isn’t going quite how he’d expected. 

Apart from the daughter though. Hannibal had anticipated that. How many hours did they each spend there? Together or apart? Still, he isn’t adverse to the idea. An instant family is an interesting prospect and the girl is bound to have some fascinating quirks of her own. What with the serial killing father and all.

Oh yes, they can be her fathers now. Together. Joined in a kind of obligation. But not only to Abigail, Hannibal feels a mounting responsibility to Will too, for him. With his deliberately obscuring clothes, trying to hide in plain sight. Successful too by the sound of it. Most wont look beyond the plaid or the khakis, or the glasses. Most wont. Though from what Will has said he is forming an uneasy alliance with at least one of his colleagues.

Hannibal smiles at him. Will comes down from the gallery. Reluctantly he sits and the talk turns a little away from the Shrike and onto other matters.

When he leaves he makes a small grimace but takes the form with him rolling his eyes a little at Hannibal’s small smirk at him.

Definitely warming up.

..........................................

“He said ‘welcome back’”

Hannibal pauses,

“You would rather not be back in the field?”

“I’d rather not be back in Jack’s particular field. Beverly was looking for shiitake.”

Hannibal can’t help but laugh, surprised by the levity of Agent Katz. He hasn’t met her but Will has described her in amusing terms. On the other end of the phone call Will snorts,

“God. Not you too. I’ve gotta go. Thanks, Dr Lecter. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive carefully Will.”

When Will arrives he’s still a little shaken from the scene, maybe the circumstances of the find. And when Will says he saw Hobbs? Hannibal can’t help but consider the stress the case is putting him under. That’s not what he wants for Will at all. Not at all. But at least he came back.

..................................

When Will calls him the next time he’s fresh off having pulled some woman, the latest potential victim of the fungus killer, out of a car trunk. And has seen the article by Freddie Lounds. What is to be done about that? He’s certainly upset but Hannibal is delighted to be the recipient of Will’s various grumblings.

“She is naughty, Ms Lounds.”

Will actually laughs,

“Wait until she turns her sights on you.” He sighs, “I’m going to see Abigail later. You coming?”

“Possibly. Try and get some sleep too Will? Yes?”

He smiles when he hears Will sigh again.

“Still looking out for me Dr Lecter?”

..................................

Will is still shaking when Hannibal arrives at the hospital the following day. He sits beside him on the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the waiting room adjacent to Abigail’s room. He’s pleased if a little surprised when Will leans against him.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I know.”

Will rubs a shaking hand over his face, and Hannibal stands and offers his hand to pull him to his feet.

“We should have this conversation elsewhere. Come?”

Will stands and just for a moment continues to hold onto Hannibal’s hand. He looks down at it.

“Sorry. I just. Sorry.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. My office? I think you’ll be more comfortable there? Perhaps you’ll let me drive?”

“My car is outside.”

Hannibal says nothing and Will slowly releases his hand.

“Ok. Thanks.”

..................................

“Killing Hobbs felt just. I thought about killing Stammetts. That might have been my intention. I’m not sure.”

Hannibal nods briefly at him, And having prowled around the room Will finally sits, Hannibal seats himself opposite and leans forward when Will sighs,

“You’re supposed to be my paddle.”

“I am. Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?”

Will pauses for a moment, still chewing on his not tasty thoughts,

“I liked killing Hobbs.”

His face crumples a little as he says it. And Hannibal can hardly resist reaching out to stroke his sad face. Will leans into it a little. Chases the touch when Hannibal drops his hand and leans back in his chair.

Will frowns. Hannibal looks at him.

Oh.

 

...................................


	3. Potage

“Alana is here. She just drove up in her hybrid. Goddam stalker car. I wasn’t even dressed.”

On the other end of the line Hannibal smiles,

“Any particular reason for her visit?”

He can hear the returned smile in Will’s voice.

“Abigail woke up.”

“Yes? Good. Will you go to see her later?”

“Hannibal? She doesn’t have anyone.”

“She doesn’t. Alana I expect doesn’t want us there.”

Will sighs,

“She doesn’t. Not yet at least, she wants to see her first.”

“Very well then. Later on. Will you call me?”

“I will. Thanks. I’m going into the lab. Jack’s got some theory.”

“Ah. A theory. It’s not impossible he will call me too.”

“So. I might see you there?”

“Also not impossible.”

He hears Will laugh as he finishes the call. Hannibal feels a warmth spreading along his veins at the sound.

...................................

When he stands with Jack later in the afternoon he listens to Will expounding on his theories about the Copycat. Ah. Well. He might just have been a little impulsive there. Even if she was abominably rude.

When the lecture finishes up he smiles at Will and several students glance between them on their way out. Will smiles back when Hannibal picks up his briefcase and hands it to him.

“Ready?”

Will shrugs,

“As I’ll ever be.”

.................................

Really? What is to be done about Ms Lounds?

.................................

In Jack’s office a gradual decision is reached to take Abigail back to her home, to revisit the scene, to help her, in one way or another. Hannibal knows Will isn’t very happy about it, but at least they will all go together. And it will be a chance to observe Will in his unnatural element as well. 

The house is the usual single storey sprawling tract home, and Abigail can’t quite decide what tone to go for. Affronted, bemused, bewildered, unsure. She throws the occasional glance towards Hannibal though she says nothing. Except. The comment about reenacting the crime.

Well then. That’s interesting too.

The young man though? And the friend?

Unconscionably rude.

...................................

“You should get it checked Hannibal.”

Will frowns as he sponges at the cut bruise on the back of Hannibal’s head,

“I was a surgeon Will. I think I know how I am. Alana was hurt far worse.”

Will makes a face,

“They’re checking her at the hospital.”

“Concussion can be tricky.”

Wills face goes stubborn,

“Which is why you should go, get it looked at.”

Hannibal puts up a hand to still Will’s,

“Am I the new Winston?”

Will laughs,

“God I’m transparent aren’t I? Sorry. Do you mind?”

“Being collected? Or that you are concerned for my welfare.”

“Bit of both maybe.”

“I’m still perfectly all right Will. And we should be more concerned for Abigail at this moment.”

Will nods and shifts a little in his chair. He wrings out the handkerchief he wetted into the Tupperware bowl.

“You’re going to have a headache tomorrow. You taking Abigail back to the hospital?”

“Jack has asked me to.”

“You’re sure you’re all right to drive?”

....................................

Abigail sits opposite him in his office,

“Over the walls Abigail? Not very clever. Jack will look harder at you.”

She grumbles a little, still tightly wound from the events of the last two days,

“Tell me about Will Graham.”

“What do you want to know?”

She makes a face then, perhaps wondering if he will deflect,

“He likes you doesn’t he?”

Hannibal smiles,

“And I like him. He is an interesting and compassionate man. You could do far worse than to have him as a friend.”

She looks at him, all teenage guile and her own kind of yearning evident in her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant. You know what I mean. He likes you.”

“I know what you mean Abigail. It doesn’t change my answer.”

She looks at him a little harder, searches his face for an answer she can wrap herself around,

“Are you going to look after me?”

“I’m nothing like your dad Abigail.”

“But we’ll keep each other’s secrets?”

“We will. And no more climbing walls.”

She looks down at her feet and then back up,

“Is Will a secret?”

“For now.”


	4. Oeuf

When they walk back across the fields Will stops Hannibal with a hand to his arm,

“At night. When I walk here, if I leave the lights on, the house looks like a boat. It’s really the only time I feel safe.”

Hannibal doesn’t speak for a moment, then he looks round at the fields, at Will,

“You feel safe with me?”

Wills hand tightens on his arm.

“You know I do.”

He waits to see what Will will do next. Earlier the conversation in Hannibal’s office had turned on the girl on the antlers in Hobbs’ cabin. And still the conversation had crossed lines and territory Hannibal had not predicted. If this is a courtship it is one of a kind. Hannibal is still not entirely sure if it is or if Will is training him. Or if that’s the same thing as far as Will is concerned. 

The walk had been Hannibal’s idea but the venue Will’s. And the house is something of a surprise. It’s fuller than he’d anticipated, evidence of occupation, hobbies and habits, a life being lived according to Will’s desires.

Will releases Hannibal’s arm.

“Coffee? Or will you accept a beer?”

.................................

The following day Hannibal is back at Will’s house to feed the dogs. It gives him the chance to explore which Hannibal can’t help wondering if Will intends. He’s understood that this task usually falls to Alana. He smiles a little at the way Will is gradually tying him into his life. Like one of his flies. A fisherman then? And Hannibal is letting himself be caught. Maybe.

The dogs are friendly and obedient, well trained to each and every command. They respond to him, this is the first time he’s met them alone and the wagging tails and huffing smiles suggest that like Will they are welcoming him in.

He wonders how Will is managing. He’d sounded upset on the phone. And family can do that. It puts him in mind of Abigail, of the relationships he is building with her, that he is paving the way for with Will. For the three of them. Even if Alana objects somewhat.

..................................

When he opens the door in the evening he smiles at his own prescience. And at Alana’s mild flirting. And he can’t help but poke a little to find out more about Will and Abigail. Ahh, yes. She doesn’t like that at all.

..................................

The next two days have Will turning to his phone so often that eventually Beverly notices and calls him on it,

“It’s just Dr Lecter. He’s being helpful.”

“And Jack likes him being helpful?”

“Jack likes me functioning.”

“Seems like Dr Lecter likes you functioning too.”

Will is about to growl at her when he laughs instead.

“All right. Fair play. I’ll tell him that.”

When he does Hannibal laughs down the phone, just a short thing, but it makes Will smile to hear it. Which is something in the circumstances. He stretches out on the most comfortable chair in his living room, listens carefully for Hannibal’s concern, warmed by it,

“What is it Will? Reminders of searching for a mother you wish you’d had?”

“God, don’t hold back Hannibal. Yes. No. I don’t know. Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. I still do.”

Will is quieter then and Hannibal can almost picture him running a hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his head, never mind the chaos he’d leave behind.

“Family Hannibal? It matters to you?” He pauses. “It matters to me. Maybe too much.”

“Isn’t that why you’re so angry? That it matters.”

“I don’t know. I bought Abigail a present.” He pauses again and Hannibal leans into the silence. Will carries on. “God. It’s the whole paternal thing isn’t it. Fuck. They’re just giving it away.”

“I’m sorry Will.”

Will sighs again,

“Not your fault. And look, thanks for feeding the dogs. Did you have a good nose around?”

Hannibal laughs a little, he’d anticipated right, good to know,

“Enough I think. I’m going to invite Abigail for supper tomorrow. Would you like to come?”

“Gathering your family Hannibal? I’m not sure I’ll be back in time. But thank you.”

...................................

Hannibal opens the door of his house,

“Will? I wasn’t expecting you. When did you get back?”

“I drove here. I’m sorry. It was.. it was difficult. I’m sorry it’s so late. Can I come in?”

Hannibal steps back,

“Of course. Come into the kitchen. I’m sorry, Abigail has already gone.”

“I know. I realised. It was you I wanted to see.”

“And now you have.”

“I know. I feel a bit better. Thank you.” 

“Should I be glad you opted for me over the dogs?”

“Who says I won’t see them later?”

Hannibal pauses,

“Of course. Though I can offer you a guest room.”

Slowly Will smiles,

“Honestly. Your face.”

Hannibal twitches a shoulder slightly,

“I’m glad to see your humour is returning.”

“Not the only thing.”

“Yes?”

Will smiles a little more, then nods, perhaps a touch shyly.

“Yes.”

 

 

.................................


	5. Coquilles

“I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Hannibal pauses before taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“Never apologise for coming to me. Even if it is....? Well. Office hours are for patients, my kitchen is always open to friends.”

Will twitches a small smile at that and Hannibal considers that the terrible hour is a small price to pay for this opportunity,

“Yeah? Ok. Well. I’ll admit I’m unnerved.”

“Of course you are. What are you identifying as your symptoms?”

Will considers for a moment, and a whole litany of disaster scrolls across his face. And Hannibal can see he is reluctant to share. Perhaps because of the growing intimacies between them?

“Will? I won’t think less of you. Or even differently? Please?”

He still keeps silent so Hannibal tries again,

“Are you concerned with abandonment?”

And that does get a response,

“Abandonment requires expectation.”

Hannibal watches as Will empties his glass of coffee and sets it down on the counter top.

“And you have none?”

He watches as Will comes to a particular set of conclusions, and a decision,

“Shall we start with terrible nightmares, hallucinations, night sweats, some auditory stuff. None of it good. I don’t feel right.”

Hannibal narrows his eyes,

“I know you know these could be symptoms of PTSD.”

Will slumps against the counter top,

“I know that. Really I do. But..”

Hannibal sets down his own drink,

“All right then. At this point I’d suggest a mild sedative, some time off from the field doing something you enjoy, and..”

Whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by Will’s cell going off, he shrugs an apology but doesn’t step away to take the call. Hannibal watches the expression on his face change. Watches him close his eyes, scrunch up his face a little.

“Well?”

“You’ve guessed it’s Jack? Don’t say a word. I have to go. It sounds, well it sounds bizarre.”

“Will you make it back for your appointment?”

As they walk to the front door Will answers,

“I think so. Actually I’m considering how much I’d like to piss Jack off by saying he interrupted breakfast.”

“Reckless, Will.”

“Yeah? I feel it.”

........................................

 

“What’s Mrs Crawford like?”

Will circles round the office, pausing to check the art, the books, the shelving, he runs a hand down the side of the ladder to the upper Gallery.

“Charming. Elegant. Her own woman. And also, possibly seriously unwell.”

Will turns to look at him,

“Is that why Jack was such a shit today?”

“He may not know. Not consciously at least.”

Will blows out his cheeks,

“Ok. I won’t say anything. The case is fucked up enough as it is.”

“And the victims were all reprehensible in some way?”

“He thinks so. But a tumour? A tumour changes the way a person thinks, the way they are. And yes I can see the parallels before we get on to that. Both losing our minds?”

“The Angel maker is being destroyed by what is happening inside his head. You don’t have to be.”

Hannibal stands and moves across the office as Will reaches out a hand to stroke a statue of a bronze elk stag,

“Elk suffocate their prey, then they crush them. Lean on their ribs. Snap, snap, snap.”

Hannibal moves a little closer but stays a little way off,

“Are you feeling suffocated Will?”

“By you? Why? Worried you’re crushing me?”

Hannibal smiles at him,

“Not yet.”

Will smiles at him over his shoulder, strokes the stag again, not quite the one he’s seen in his dreams. There are antlers everywhere. He shudders a little, Hannibal moves a little closer as though to put a hand on him and Will stills,

“Did you just smell me?”

He turns and looks surprised,

“Hannibal?”

Hannibal looks down and away for just a moment, murmurs something about aftershave. But Will isn’t having any of it and catches at Hannibal’s arm.

“Tell me.”

“You smell sweet. A kind of fevered sweetness.”

Will runs his hands over his face,

“Oh? Well , just another symptom to add to the PTSD effects then?”

Hannibal watches as Will throws himself into one of the chairs and closes his eyes. He frowns to himself making a mental note to check later.

...................................

Late that night Hannibal is still surprised by a text,

>I should see a specialist. Tonight’s little jaunt saw me on the roof of the house in my nightwear. You’re bound to know someone. And no total shits. We found Buddish. He’s dead. And I shouted at Jack. Couple of times. Expectations Hannibal? I’ll need some help with that.<

.......................................


	6. Entree

“You know Frederick Chilton don’t you?”

Will wanders round the office again. Touching, touching, touching, always touching, skimming fingers along and across like an old fashioned housekeeper, gloved and ready to pounce. Hannibal has found himself circling on the other side of the room more than once.

“I’ve encountered him. Hard not to in the small psychiatric circles of Baltimore.”

“You’re social? I mean you spend social time with him? Friends.”

“You sound critical Will, concerned about my social calendar?”

Will huffs a laugh.

“No not really. Just the people you entertain at your table. That’s all. Alana. Jack. Frederick Chilton.”

“I might add Abigail. You, if you’d attend.”

Will smiles again, does the whole duck his head a little shyly,

“Well, if you keep asking, I might eventually give in.”

“Should I keep asking?”

“Not with Frederick Chilton. That thing I do? The whole psychiatric circle’s interest? No thanks.”

“You don’t demur at Alana or Jack.”

“Got to leave you some wiggle room.”

“Jealous of my attention Will?”

“Maybe for it would be more accurate.”

They both pause in their circling. This might be as close as Will has got to any admission. Hannibal doesn’t want to push him, but nor does he want to miss the moment.

“I can assure you, you have it. Undivided if you’d prefer.”

Will’s face is empty for a moment still working through those expectations, wary of them. Stalking them when he’s more for the lure than the hunt.

“Have you known him long?”

Hannibal raises his eyebrows again. Hard to pull someone constantly back to the personal if they are intent on avoiding it. And out of what? An honest desire to avoid it, or a dishonest one? One which forbids even imagining?

“For some time. We did some of our training together.”

“He was a surgeon?”

Hannibal blinks, this hasn’t come up in conversation before, Will must have checked somewhere,

“I meant in psychology and then in psychiatric practice. But yes, he was in surgery before.”

He considers Will,

“Is this about Gideon? Let me re-phrase. What is it about Gideon?”

“Gideon’s kill is remarkably like the last known Chesapeake Ripper’s.”

Hannibal raises his eyebrows,

“You think... what do you think?”

“I think someone wants us to think the Chesapeake Ripper is already behind bars.”

“And have you told Jack this thought?”

He’s not entirely sure what to make of the look that Will smirks at him,

“What do you think?”

..........................

They sit in front of the fire in Hannibal’s office and Jack swirls the brandy around the snifter. Holding it like a seer, something to fathom in its depths.

“This Death takes you back then?”

And oh Hannibal can’t help but prod, just a little, just a poke and yelp.

“Not the first person in my stable to get lost.”

“Will isn’t lost.”

He’s careful not to make it too pointed, wouldn’t do to alert Jack’s antennae, not now, not yet. All the same Jack snorts into the glass and Hannibal is a little sorry for it. They circle back in the conversation, just once or twice, to the trainee Jack lost. Hannibal rather likes Miriam, has a certain respect for her.

“Who were you consulting with then? Alana Bloom?”

“Oh, well, her, yes, some, not on the Ripper case. We had a Chilton for that then. He had some insight.”

Hannibal doesn’t pursue it, just lets that marinade. With the brandy.

...............................

“You’re frustrated this evening? What has happened?”

Will looks at him with eyebrows almost in his hair line,

“That’s irritatingly direct of you.”

Hannibal doesn’t reply and Will does his characteristic rub over his face with his hands. Still tired, still frayed around the edges. Still running from rather than into his dreams. He makes a conciliatory gesture.

“Freddie Lounds happened. Actually, it’s not even her. Jack thinks it’s clever to get her onside and have her write a pice about the Ripper. More to the point about Gideon being the Ripper.”

Hannibal let’s his face fall into a small smile,

“Terrible thing to lose your identity. You don’t agree?”

Will glances at him.

“I won’t dignify that with a response. Except to say I won’t dignify that with a response.”

They both smirk at each other a little. Will rubs his face again.

“Did you find someone?”

Hannibal nods, and decides on a particular course of action which may open some doors along their way.

“An old friend. Well, someone with whom I had an affair. A considerable time ago. But he owes me a favour.”

There’s only half a beat before Will smiles a little more openly,

“I bet he does.”

He stands up,

“I should go I think.”

“Or you could have a drink?”

“Or I could have a drink.”

“Which is it to be Will?”

“I think you know that too.” He pauses delicately. “Hannibal.”

.................................

Hannibal looks between Alana and Frederick Chiton. And this is why Frederick is an infrequent guest at his table, all bristling defiance and petulant deference. Betraying himself with his feisty tongue. Hannibal can’t help his puns.

Actually smiles.

And oh, those grapes.


	7. Sorbet

“What were you talking about?”

Will tips his chin up indicating the small group Hannibal has just extracted himself from,

“Giving a dinner party.”

Will keeps his eyes on the group, then slides them towards Hannibal,

“And the little guy?”

Will takes a sip of his drink and glances around the auditorium. Hannibal frowns slightly,

“Ahh. Yes. That was rather more unfortunate. A patient.”

“More of an impatient? And his glowering succubus friend?”

“Possibly a very poor choice in friends.”

Will smiles into his glass. He knows all about those kinds of choices. And those kinds of friends. Hannibal smiles at him and changes the subject.

“Did you enjoy the music Will?”

“Honestly? Spectacular. Like a condensed dream. I’m glad you did too.”

“I’ve learned to appreciate the rare and unadorned.”

Will doesn’t reply but he does smile. Hannibal drains his own glass. Satisfied.

.............................

Jack sighs, stretches out his legs in front of him, tries to settle a little more comfortably in the modern armchair.

“They all touched the body. All of them. For fucks sake. They know better than that.”

Moodily Jack swirls the amber liquid around in his glass. He takes a mouthful and Hannibal is pleased to watch him savour it.

“So, Jack, not the Ripper?”

“Not even close Dr Lecter. Not according to Will.”

“And you believe him?”

“I believe the best. He’s still the best. He’s consistently been the best.”

Hannibal just nods and offers to top Jack’s glass up.

.................................

Hannibal reminds himself to contact Donald as soon as possible when Will calls and is almost incoherent with pain and anguish. All of his plans have gone flying out the window, and he can’t bring himself to even care.

“At least tell me you’re not going to a case.”

There’s a silence at the other end of the line until Will says,

“Actually I’m calling from the lab.”

“Will, you have to stop abusing yourself like this.”

Will doesn’t answer straight off and Hannibal wonders if he has hung up.

“I do know. I do. I’m trying.”

If anything it makes Hannibal feel a little desperate. He has to unclench his hand from where it’s gripping the cell phone.

................................

Hannibal thinks about what Will said about Alana. About what she’d said to him. And wonders if she’s been deliberately keeping Will to herself. Even more so now. He probes a little and is rewarded by an instant prickle of response.

Oh Alana. Protective, and hostile, and possessive. Hard to say which of these is winning out. Still, that should become more apparent. It won’t take much of a push.

He flirts gently to clear the air of any lingering doubts. Smirks.

.................................

In the basement car park where the ambulances are parked up Bev explains about the tracking and Hannibal leans over towards Will and mutters,

“This is very educational!”

Somewhat distracted Will smiles and the group dispatches following the electronic breadcrumbs Silvestri has left behind. 

When they find the ambulance the perp is still inside muddling his victim. Hannibal follows on Jack’s invitation and does the things he can. His hands grip, tighten, hold.

“I’ve got him.”

He looks up and watches Will watch him for a moment. Something, some thing, slips between them. Some thing.

.................................

Will watchesas one of the caterers carries something indefinable across the kitchen, he refocuses, smiles shyly and offers Hannibal a bottle of very decent wine.

“I wouldn’t be very good company. And anyway I can’t stay, I’ve a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.”

Hannibal pauses for the smallest of moments, eyebrows almost raised, smiles back, 

“I think you’d be good company.”

“For the Ripper? Perhaps.”

“Not what I meant.” He pauses delicately. “Please.”

He can never predict which way Will will go until he waggles his head a little, side to side,

“Don’t sit me next to Alana.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows do go up then, oh yes?

“What’s the good Dr Bloom done?”

Will twitches a small smile,

“What hasn’t she?”

...............


	8. Fromage

Hannibal picks his way carefully across the ice tipped grass, each step a crunch and sharp impression. Just ahead of him Will looks around the chilly field with a frown on his face.

“I’m not seeing anything. No tracks. Not even a paw.”

“So you called me out here to look for animal parts?”

Will turns to look at him.

“I thought if we found it, I’d need help. Wrangling a wounded animal on your own? Not so easy.” He pauses for a moment and listens, hunches his shoulders further into his jacket. He looks away. “Why? Did you think this was a date?”

Hannibal stills for a moment, and Will looks at him.

“Hannibal?”

“It had crossed my mind.”

Will blinks at him, a line drawn tighter between his eyes in a deeper frown, he looks round the shivering grassland.

“What? Not too broken to date then?”

“You’re not broken Will. Have I implied otherwise?”

Will shrugs his shoulders a little.

“I just.. don’t. Not much. Maybe. You don’t though. Or don’t seem to. So what’s your excuse? And don’t say it’s because you think too much.”

It startles a laugh out of Hannibal and Will holds out a gloved hand to him.

“I’m not seeing anything here. Let’s go back.”

Hannibal accepts the hand and the way Will pulls their joined fingers into his jacket pocket. They walk back to the house, their footprints close together, side by side.

....................................

At the end of a long and busy day Hannibal reviews his patient notes. Franklyn is, as ever, more perspicacious then he realises. He taps his pen against the side of his nose and then looks up across the office. As he considers Franklyn’s obsessions he thinks of his, and, of course, of Will’s.

.......................................

Jack takes the opportunity to lean back in his chair, set off to one side beside the fireplace in Hannibal’s study.

“You should have heard them in the lab. Turns out Agent Katz plays the goddam violin.”

Hannibal takes a long mouthful of brandy before replying.

“And what did good Will have to say to that?”

“Said the guy wanted to put on a show. Opened the trachea right up so he could get at the vocal chords. Used sulphur dioxide to harden them and increase the elasticity. So he could play them.”

“From the Baltimore Philharmonic? I know the brass section has been struggling but this seems like quite an extreme response to poor embouchure.”

Jack can’t hide a small smile.

“He also said it was easier for him to look. But I notice he’s mainlining aspirin. You get him those?”

Hannibal indicates disavowel and Jack nods.

“Good. He might be disassociating, trying to see it is purely as an intellectual exercise.” He holds up a hand. “I know. I know. At one level it is, but it’s more than that for Will. He said he saw Hobbs applauding from the front stalls.”

Hannibal pauses and puts down his glass and takes a long look at Jack, looking straight back at him.

“Look after him Dr. Lecter.”

........................................

“So you just dropped round?”

Hannibal glances round Will’s darkened living room. The hole in the chimney suggests something rather more serious and further along than he’d previously considered.

“Impromptu remodelling Will?” He looks at him. “You’re not my patient.”

Will smiles and takes a small step closer to him.

“Just a conversation then?”

Hannibal takes a breath and considers which boundary to step over.

“I spoke to Tobias Budge earlier.”

Will frowns at him.

“From the concert. Your patient’s friend? The one who.. damn. Hannibal, you can’t taunt men like him. It’s not some serenade.” He stops and scans Hannibal’s face. “All right. Yes. It might be a performance. A skilled musician, making a different kind of instrument. Playing our song maybe?” He huffs a small sound. “Between unconventional notes.”

He steps closer to Hannibal.

“What are you doing? Shooing away other predators?”

He closes the gap between them and runs a thumb along Hannibal’s jaw, then leans up and kisses him.

It takes a moment for Hannibal to respond, just long enough for Will to murmur against his mouth.

“Stop over-thinking this. You’re the one who keeps reminding us I’m not your patient.”

Hannibal pulls back a little and runs a trembling hand through Will’s hair.

“I told my therapist you were rather more.”

In the dark of the room Will lifts his other hand so Hannibal’s face is cradled between them.

“Yeah? Good.”

And kisses him again.

............................

Tobias Budge takes back the rolled length of cat gut that Will holds out to him.

“Something wrong?”

Will frowns.

“Didn’t you hear that?”

He looks at the two PD officers. They both shrug a little, shake their heads. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Outside? Excuse me for a minute.” He starts for the door. “I’ll just..” 

He trails off and pushes the door open, then checks up and down the street. There’s nothing to see and he stands in the slush at the edge of the sidewalk and palms a couple more pills, his hand shaking to get the bottle open.

Back inside, the lobby of the shop is empty. He undoes the holster on his sidearm. Just inside the rehearsal room he finds one of the officers dead on the floor.

The next ten minutes are something of a blur, and he knows he got a couple of shots off but when he comes to there’s only a little blood on the floor. He touches his fingertips to the tender stripes on his throat. Of Budge there is no sign. Oh god he thinks. Hannibal. That stupid dinner he had. Which he didn’t want to tell Will about.

......................................

At Hannibal’s consulting rooms Will pushes through the outer door, anxiety writ large across his face: Worried about what he might find there.

Inside there is the aftermath of a bloody fight, two bodies on the floor. And neither of them are Hannibal’s, though he sits in disarray beside his desk, slumped down a little, bruises already forming. He looks up and Will can only wonder at what he sees in his eyes.

“I was worried you were dead.”

Will doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but maybe Hannibal can read it off his face as he gives a small smile and looks down and away. And then up at Jack.

“He attacked me.”

Jack turns away and Will comes a little closer to sit on the edge of the desk. They look at each other and Will shakes his head a little.

“Did I drag you into my world? Feels like I did.”

Hannibal manages a tired smile at him.

“I got here on my own. But,” he makes a small moue “but I appreciate the company.”

Will shakes his head and then pulls a cotton handkerchief from his pocket. He moistens a corner and then begins to wipe away some of the blood from Hannibal’s face. Hannibal closes his eyes. Lets Will tend to him. He sighs. 

Maybe Bedelia is right.


End file.
